Breadcrumbs
by NancyMay
Summary: Lucien goes away, for a long time. A thought in why he is missing for 18 months, how it impacts Jean and her life, and what happens to him. Something of a ramble which I am not particularly sure about but until we know what is going on perhaps ...


Jean turned the paper round in her hand. No signature, no address just a simple instruction: "Put Amelia on your passport".

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"I shouldn't be more than a few weeks," Lucien whispered between kisses, "then we will be home."

"Oh, Lucien," she sniffed, "do you really think it's safe to go? They aren't exactly friendly towards us, at the moment."

"I have to, Jean," he stroked her head, "she is my daughter, and although I know it is dangerous, I have to try. Being half Australian is doing her no favours ..."

"I know, and I know I'm being selfish," she wiped the tears away with her hand, "but we need you too, me and Amelia."

"You are not being selfish, self preservation is not selfish, my darling girl," he held her tight, stroking her back through her nightdress. "You have given me more than I ever deserve, a new life, a chance at marriage and family, again, and Amelia, I love you both, so very much."

"Promise me you'll be careful, and come home to us, in one piece," she buried her head in his chest.

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Explaining to her daughter that papa had to go away for a while, on important business had been hard. Amelia was first her granddaughter, now, after her mother had killed herself, over Christopher's infidelity, her adopted daughter, and they had become a close family. Amelia adored papa and couldn't see what was so important he had to go away. She had cried some nights and slept in Jean's bed, wrapped in Lucien's cardigan and held by mama. Now, as time had passed the tears had just about stopped, climbing into Jean's bed hadn't and she had become a quiet almost clingy child.

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Jean was glad that Matthew still lodged with her, at least she had company in the evening and many a time Alice would join them. Taking a locum on had kept the practice going, and, as he was part time, Alice took some of the surgeries.

Contact with her husband was non-existent and she didn't know if this was better than having someone come to the door and give her the news she dreaded. He had warned her he may not be able to get letters to her so he would try a telegram. Phone calls would be out of the question. But the telegrams did not materialise and the one letter that had arrived had been censored so much there was just the 'Jean', even the word 'darling' had been blacked out, and his familiar 'Lucien' at the end. She was sure it contained protestations of undying love for her and Amelia, probably news about how he could not locate Li, or he could, and she was not able to leave with him, which had been his original intention.

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Li's letter, the one that had him leave and travel to China had told enough to confirm his worry that a woman who had a western parent was struggling to make ends meet or live in safety. Comments such as 'Jiang has grown another pound', meant the little girl was not growing, as a pound at her age was not enough, or 'one day you must come a try my shortbread, and tell me if it as good as Jean's', when Li would not know how to bake a western biscuit, meant come and help me. Most of the letter was heavily censored, and after having his reply returned before it had even left the country, Lucien knew he had to do something and get her back to Australia.

"Her husband is likely dead, put to the noose by the authorities," he told Jean, barely able to hold back the tears, "I must do something."

She knew he would never forgive himself if he didn't, or her if she didn't let him go. So he went and as he walked to the taxi she wondered, truly, if she would ever see him again.

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For eighteen months she lived in a state of limbo. She enrolled Amelia in a small school, one where she wouldn't feel lost and alone. Patients came and went, asked after the doctor and patted Amelia on the head when she was there.

One evening, as Matthew kissed Alice goodnight at the front door she mused on how generous Alice was, to almost share Matthew with her. Sometimes she would go to bed before Alice had left and not hear the door go. She knew Alice stayed over, but left before she was up, or perhaps left after she and Matthew had made love.

"Matthew," she looked up as he stomped back to the living room, "can I be completely frank with you?"

"Jean, you know you can, what's bothering you?" he sat in the chair he had recently vacated.

"You and Alice," she had to be blunt, it was an embarrassing subject to broach with a friend and colleague of your husband's. "I know your relationship isn't exactly platonic ..."

Matthew blushed while he waited for her to say she didn't want that kind of influence on Amelia.

"... if she wants to stay over, for breakfast, she is more than welcome."

"Jean, I, er ..." he swallowed, "it's just that we didn't want to ..."

"... remind me of what I'm missing?" she gave a little smile, "it's alright, but you don't have to put your love life on hold just because my husband has gone away. He'll be back, someday, and I might need you to take Amelia out of the way while I greet him, properly."

So Alice started appearing at the breakfast table more often than she didn't. Jean made her feel welcome, part of some strange family, Matthew insisted on upping his rent by fifty percent, and sometimes they would drop Amelia off at school on the way to work.

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Jean flicked a duster over the upstairs rooms, now empty and unused, except for the bathroom. Matthew, and Alice when she was there, were the only ones who used the upstairs bathroom, he was fine with stairs these days. Three rooms and a bathroom - it would make a nice little flat, perhaps, one room, with a little money spent on it could even make a small kitchen/diner. Her old room was the largest. It still had the furniture she had used, the small double bed, dressing table and wardrobe. Her mind was made up. Alice rented her flat why not?

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" so it occurred to me," she sipped a whisky with them one evening, "that if I turned the rooms into a small flat you could have your own space."

Alice looked at Matthew, he looked back at her, it certainly sounded like a good idea.

"I'm not saying I don't want this, the evening drinks and chats, but I'm not your mother, you don't want me chaperoning you, and, Alice, when _did_ you last go home?"

Alice blushed and Jean laughed. It was true, she did practically live there, but neither she nor her lover wanted to put a similar idea to Jean, even if Jean had done her laundry that week.

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Lucien had arrived in China on a cold grey day, made greyer by the people milling around in uniform like tunics and trousers. He passed his passport and visa over to the official to be stamped. The man looked him up and down and finding no reason to keep him there passed the paperwork back and waved him on his way.

He had Li's last address and determined that was where he would go, to start with. Armed with an old photograph of her he would start his search. When he found her he would work out how to get her home, but with no Australian embassy he was going to find it difficult. He wished she had stayed in Hong Kong, it would have been so much easier, but after Mei Lin's death she had gravitated back to where she had grown up, with her husband and child, moved to a farming commune and settled down.

The village was poor, very poor. No real houses, huts, lean to's, poor sanitation if any, no proper roads. He shook his head, Li was born to more than this.

He went around, glad he had taken his medical bag with him, it gave him something to barter with, though he did not withhold treatment from those who would tell him nothing. This village had once been an agricultural commune but it had failed, like so many others. One old woman thought she recognised Li, from the photograph, and suggested her try further up the road, where there was another, smaller commune that was, while not thriving, doing better. She did, however confirm that her husband had been killed, as a member of the bourgeoisie, an ideologist who had tried to hide his education in the commune.

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He plodded on, wishing he could get word to Jean, that he was alright, but he was way out of any place that had a post office. He hoped his last letter had got through and that she would hold on, that Matthew and Alice would take care of her, until he got back, if he got back.

He heard the sound of footsteps, marching. Dodging into some trees to one side of the road he prayed he wouldn't get caught. His passport and visa would not protect him out here, only in town, and only in a hospital where he could say he was working as a doctor. Though that would give him little protection.

They passed and he breathed a sigh of relief, hoping he would find Li in the next village and they could work out a way of getting her to Australia, because he hadn't thought that far. 'Typical,' he heard Jean say, in his mind.

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Matthew and Alice insisted on contributing towards any costs she may incur in turning the top floor into the flat.

"I was thinking of turning one of the smaller rooms into a little kitchen, basic but big enough to hold a stove, fridge, sink and table and a few cupboards, but ..." she looked thoughtful.

"... I don't cook, much," Alice sighed, "and, actually, do you mind, Jean? It feels right, eating with you in the evening."

"I like having you there," Jean smiled softly, "it's family."

"I never had a family like that," Alice bit her lip, "with dad going ..." and other things she didn't want to think about.

"Then be part of our family, Alice," Jean leant over and touched her hand, "you are most welcome."

"Thank you, Jean."

"So, we'll hold off on the kitchen then," she laughed, and the decision was made.

The men from the station helped with moving and installing furniture. There was no need for Matthew or Alice to be coy, everybody knew and they were happy for them, the boss was easier to work with and they had all, even Bill, discovered that Dr Harvey had a wicked sense of humour.

The double that Matthew had used was put in Jean's old room, her old bed was consigned to the garage, the two beds Mattie and Charlie had had in their rooms went into Matthew's old room, as they were singles and a new couch and chairs were put into Charlie's room with a coffee table and bookshelf, making it into a charming little sitting room. Mattie's old room was made into a study for Alice or Matthew to finish any paperwork if they had to. In time, if necessary that would become the kitchen.

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Jean had always added her thoughts to some of the cases and now, to keep her mind occupied and off her missing husband she actively helped. Matthew found a way to have her recognised as a consultant on certain cases and it brought in some extra income. Lucien had left her well provided for, the practice paid the locum's fees, her wages as practice manager and left enough for the day to day running of the home and looking after Amelia. Money wasn't tight but it wasn't free flowing either. Alice refused to take a fee so Jean left their rent as it was. So, for local cases, missing persons and non violent infractions of the law she investigated and, with the help of one of the officers, brought the perpetrator to justice. She also dealt with any family problems and schools that rang to report minor misdemeanours, such as playground fights that needed a little more than a caning but less than a uniformed copper. The men found her invaluable if they had to go and report a death; her calm female presence was a boon to the wife or husband, daughter or son, and she would make tea and listen to endless stories about the deceased and helped the family through the grieving process. One widow told her she was far better than the priest, she didn't say it was in God's plan, because if it was, she didn't like his planning!

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So life went on, for Jean, life with a missing piece, like a jigsaw with the last bit lost under the couch, a piece just off centre. Amelia did well at school, just above average, not quite thriving, but not falling behind. Her teachers said they thought she could be stretched a little further, but Jean asked them to hold off, she missed her papa and as long as she was coping with the work, Jean was happy.

Christopher called rarely, still reeling from the result of his actions. Jean had been rightly furious. He had said it had only happened once.

"Once is once too often!" she yelled at him, "now you have to live with this. You have lost your wife, who, though not perfect was doing her best, and now Amelia."

He had slinked away, his tail between his legs and only rang to enquire of Amelia, about once a month.

His visit was a shock to both Jean and Amelia.

He sat at the kitchen table nursing a cup of tea, watching Amelia play with an old Noah's ark. She was lining the animals up, two by two, much as he and Jack had done, oh so many years ago. She prattled on to them telling them off when they fell over and having imaginary conversations between Noah and his sons.

"Mama," she looked up at Jean, "the pointy bit is broken."

"It's so old, sweetheart," Jean smiled, "I'll get someone to mend it for you."

"Papa," Amelia said definitely, "papa will do it, when he comes home."

"Of course he will, no need to bother Uncle Matthew, eh?"

"No, it will be alright until then."

"So, he's coming back then?" Christopher muttered.

"When he finished his business," Jean answered, with more conviction than she felt.

"Papa has important business," Amelia agreed.

Christopher pushed his tea away and stood up. "I'll be off then."

Jean followed him up the hall.

"Why, mum?" he turned and paused in putting on his cap, "why do you persist in letting her believe he will come back?"

"Because he will," she stated firmly.

"He's been gone, how long? eighteen months," Christopher huffed, "isn't it best to realise he's left you?"

"Get out, Christopher," she growled, "get out, and don't come back until you can get it through your thick skull that Lucien loves us, he would never leave, not like that. He _will_ come back."

She opened the door and watched him march down the drive, biting her lip against the tears.

Taking a deep breath she headed back to the kitchen to prepare dinner for them all, telling herself that Christopher was wrong, very wrong. She knew how the political land lay, and so did he, Lucien would have a hell of a time getting Li and Jiang out of China, legally.

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Lucien had found Li, but the police had found Lucien. Thankfully she was able to bluff her way out of their clutches and be released back to the farm. Her work was valuable, she was producing food to feed the masses.

The one thing Lucien feared the most had been capture. The Chinese were not likely to be kind to him, treat him as a spy. He never wavered from his story that he was a doctor (the truth) that he had left his practice, also true to a degree, and decided to do some voluntary missionary work among the poor workers who could not get medical help. His Mandarin was good enough to persuade the officials, but it took a good couple of months.

Li took her life and that of her child's in her hands when she went to the police station where Lucien was being held to ask if the western doctor could help her with her child. Jiang was not well, she had a rash, she was worried it might spread through the village.

Lucien examined Jiang, who squealed in pain, obligingly, though that may have been due to Li pinching her, just enough when the official was not looking.

Lucien diagnosed measles.

"Highly contagious," he sighed, in Mandarin, and shook his head sadly, "I must check the rest of the village, it can cause blindness, deafness, even death if not treated."

Li wailed at the thought that her child could die and begged the onlookers to let her take this man, this doctor back to the commune, to help her co-workers.

"It could spread countrywide, if not contained," Lucien knew he was laying on a bit thick, and Jiang did not have measles, Li must have put something on her skin that would cause a rash. A salve would soon sort it.

The official looked doubtful.

"It can cause sterility," Lucien knew this wasn't strictly true, there were no recorded cases, but, to a man, well ...

"Go!" he was almost pushed out of the cell, "cure these people."

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Jiang's rash cleared up quickly, with the use of a herbal salve.

"You took a great risk," Lucien stroked her cheek, "now it is my turn, to get the three of us out of here."

"But how, esteemed father?" she pulled him to a corner, "your government ..."

"No, I know," he pulled her to his chest and stroked her long hair. "But I think I have a way, it came to me in the cell."

She looked up at him.

"We need to get to Shanghai," he whispered, "there is a British embassy there. They have got British nationals out of China, I'm hoping, that as I served in the war ..." it was the only thing he could think of, and even if they got him to England he would be able to get word to Jean. In fact he could get word from the embassy, he hoped.

"It's a long journey, father," she pointed out, "it will have to be on foot."

"Then we had better get some sleep," he smiled, glad that she was ready to come with him.

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Jean decided she had to follow the instruction, without question, but until she got another she would say nothing to Matthew. Deep down she knew this was a message from Lucien, so if he wanted her to go travelling, with Amelia, then she would go. She tucked the passport in her bedside drawer and mentally drew up a list of everything they would need to pack, but not more than two suitcases and a small overnight bag. She also started to keep cash, hidden in her dressing table, and ordered some traveller's cheques.

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The second instruction came, in much the same way as the first. It was clear to her that nobody was to know where they were going, or who they were meeting.

"Go to the station, an envelope will be waiting for you."

She packed hers and Amelia's things, tucked the cash in the lining of the suitcases, neatly sewing up the cut and put the passport and traveller's cheques in her handbag.

Their train was after school, again he was trying to avoid suspicion. Her only problem was that it was the middle of term, and removing Amelia from school without an explanation would trigger a countrywide search.

She left an envelope on the kitchen table, addressed to the school. In it was a letter saying she had an unexpected call from a friend abroad and she was taking Amelia for an educational tour of Europe. It was a lie, she had no idea where she was going, but whatever happened it would certainly educate the child.

She turned the oven down low, moved the note for Matthew and Alice on the table, and headed out of the house to the taxi, also arranged.

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"Where're we going, mama?" Amelia clung to her hand in the station.

"On an adventure, my darling," Jean smiled, and stopped at the desk, "I believe you have something for Jean Blake?"

"Yes, madam," the ticket officer smiled and handed her a sealed envelope, addressed to 'Jean Blake'. Opening it she found two tickets, one for a child, to Melbourne, and ten pounds in cash. She supposed that was for tea and snacks in the buffet car, more than she would need. There was also a note saying there would be a taxi waiting and she was to go to the airport and at the Quantas desk there would be another envelope. This note she was to destroy.

They settled in a carriage, mercifully all to themselves as Amelia was full of questions.

"Is it papa, mama?" she looked into Jean's eyes.

"I very much think so, darling," Jean smiled, "I think he is being mysterious. It could be a long journey, like following the breadcrumbs in Hansel and Gretel."

"There isn't a witch is there, mama?" Amelia's eyes opened wide.

"No, dear girl, there isn't a witch," Jean laughed, "though I can't be sure some people won't be mean along the way. You and me, we'll be fine."

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As Jean and Amelia were boarding a plane to Belgrade Matthew and Alice were reading her note. It was short and to the point.

"Dear Matthew and Alice,

How to start, I can't. I have received some letters, notes really, giving me travel instructions. I know they are from Lucien, and I don't know why he is being so secretive, but I am going to follow them, with Amelia and go on an adventure.

Thank you both, for being our friend, we will come home, all of us and as soon as I can contact you I will.

Keep the home fires burning,

My love and gratitude to you both,

Jean.

PS: would you mind burning this note, please."

"Bloody hell," Matthew whistled, "what do we do now?"

Alice took the note and re read it.

"We do exactly as she says," she headed to the fireplace in the living room and tossed the paper into the fire she had just lit, "Jean would not do anything to endanger Amelia."

They ate the dinner she had left, still musing on what had happened, and smiling that she would leave them a meal.

They had discussed what to tell the rest of the 'family', and just decided to tell the truth. She had taken Amelia on a surprise holiday, abroad.

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Jean was glad the flight was a night one. After they ate in the airport cafe, Amelia would sleep for most of it.

"Don't I need my pyjamas, mama?" she yawned.

Jean smiled and took her into the Ladies to change her and let her clean her teeth.

The flight attendant gave her a blanket to wrap the child in, and one for her.

"Anything you need, Mrs Blake, just ring," she smiled.

"Thank you," Jean smiled back and pulled Amelia to her, securing her handbag with passports and money between them. They both slept for most of the flight though Jean played over the notes in her mind. Destroying each one by ripping it up into tiny pieces and then soaking it in water in the lavatory sinks before flushing it away.

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According to the note at the airport in Belgrade they had a day to themselves in the city. A hotel had been booked for them where they could freshen up, have a meal and change.

Amelia had been cooped up in a plane, train and taxis for nearly two days. Jean opted to find a park she could run around in and breathe some fresh air. They looked at the flowers and talked about papa. She was so excited. Jean tried to calm her down and over lunch in a small cafe she reminded her that papa had sent them on an adventure and they didn't know where it would end.

They wandered through the streets looking in shop windows. In a small toyshop they found a nest of Russian dolls and some paper, a small notebook and pencils that Amelia could use to colour and write a diary.

"What's a diary, mama?" she watched Jean pay the shop keeper with some strange coins.

"A book you can write in, with everything you have done that day." Jean took the bag with a smile and nod to the man, "so you can remember things."

"Oh, then can I show papa, when we see him?"

"I think he would like that, very much," Jean took her hand and they headed back to the hotel, for dinner and sleep.

As they entered the hotel the concierge caught them.

"Mrs Blake," he held out an envelope.

"Thank you," she took out another of the strange coins and placed it in his palm. "Come, Amelia."

It was going to be a long journey which Jean did not relish with a small child. Belgrade to Paris by train. A break in Venice had been arranged, where they would stay for two days, before boarding the train again and head to Paris.

Jean wished she knew why it had to be so secret, what had Lucien done in China to take her halfway round the world to meet him? _Would_ they ever be able to go back to Australia? Or was it Li? Was there something wrong with her or her daughter.

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She was surprised at how content Amelia was to sit in the train and watch the countryside go by. She wrote in her diary what she ate, how she nearly fell out of the bunk, so she decided to sleep with mama. Jean grinned at this, remembering doing the very same thing with Lucien on their honeymoon.

They took the risk to be visible and sat in the lounge car where there was another child Amelia could play with. He had a packet of cards and they played Snap and Happy Families while Jean took tea with his mother. It was nice to talk to another adult, one who didn't ask too many questions.

"We are going to see my papa," Amelia told her little friend.

"Where is he?"

"It's a secret, we are following clues," she giggled, "mama says it is like when she works with the police."

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Lucien's army training came in handy. He was able to build a shelter for himself, Li and Jiang, when they couldn't find somewhere to sleep at night. Sometimes they found an abandoned animal shed, or feedstore. They avoided villages and towns, he was too different to be as invisible as Li. If they needed food she would go into the markets and bring out things that they could carry easily, and cook over an open fire at night. They were half way to Shanghai when they noticed a factory type building, hidden in a hillside, near a water source. Lucien was curious, which even Li could see was his downfall, many a time, but this was a mainly rural area, not very populated.

"I don't like it. Li," he finished the hide, "this is not an industrial area."

"Father, please, be careful," she urged.

"I'll be back by morning," he kissed her and lifted his canteen.

He disappeared into the undergrowth and she had to believe in him.

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The factory was not well guarded. Obviously, whoever it was who ran the place was banking on the locality to be so quiet as to be safe. He skirted the buildings, took his notebook out and sketched the chimneys and buildings. A door was open, in a building near the back of the site. Begging Jean's forgiveness, and Li's, he slipped it and flattened himself against the wall. There wasn't much happening. He peered round a corner into a corridor, doors every side. He took his boots and socks off and tucked them out of sight. He needed to be silent and have enough grip should he have to run.

Each door was closed but not soundproof. He could hear some men talking about their families, discussing their plans for time off. Some were obviously eating, it seemed to be a recreation room.

Further down he came across what appeared to be a laboratory. It was in darkness, and locked. He took out his lock pick and fiddled until he heard the click that indicated it was now open.

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Li flung her arms round him when he appeared out of the darkness.

"What is it, father?" she asked, handing him some tea, "what did you find?"

"A laboratory," he held up a tiny vial, "I need to get somewhere to test this. I need to be sure it is what it says."

She looked at the label and drew her brows together. "It says Brucella. What's that?"

"Not used now, during the Korean war, though nobody will admit it," he thought for a few minutes, "I think this is an attempt to blame a western state for an outbreak."

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Lucien showed his Australian passport and Li's birth certificate that he had secreted in his suit lining to the officer at the gates of the British Embassy in Shanghai. He briefly explained why he was there and about the factory he had discovered.

The vial was taken off him to be tested and he and his family were given tea and food.

"Dr Blake," an embassy official greeted him, "please, come this way."

They were taken into an office and questioned, politely. Everything was noted down by a secretary, how they had come to Shanghai, how he had found the factory and what he had brought to them. Li was questioned about her life, her husband and his activities.

She told them, honestly, that he had been a professor, at a university. He taught history, of the world, and western literature. His ideas and knowledge were considered dangerous and they had decided that hiding out in an agricultural commune would be safer than continuing in a city. The soldiers had come, looking for those who would challenge the party line and found him reading a small copy of Shakespeare. He was hanged, in front of her.

"We can get you to England, if that's any good," the official smiled, "we aren't flying anyone to Oz, at the moment, but I think it would be best to get you out of the country as soon as possible. Do you have any family that need notifying of your safety, doctor?"

"A wife and another daughter," he smiled at the thought he might be able to ring her, "but it will be late, and much as I want her to know I am safe, I don't want to wake her and the rest of the household."

"Quite," he nodded and made a note of the contact details for Jean, "we shall make arrangements for you to ring her tomorrow. For now, we have rooms ready for you, here."

"Thank you," Lucien stood up and followed the man to two comfortable looking rooms, one with two single beds in, which would suit Li and Jiang. There was a door through to another room for him, and a bathroom just down the corridor.

Li couldn't believe the luxury, it was all much nicer than anywhere she had been before. She didn't remember the house she had lived in as a child.

"Why don't you and Jiang have the first bath," he turned the taps on, "I'll go second."

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While he sat in his room his feelings all jumbled up. It wasn't over yet, he had to get word to Jean, get to England, perhaps Mattie could put them up, she said she had room, in one of her letters, in her house. Her husband was a successful surgeon and they had two little ones, now, a house in Surrey, it would be better than an anonymous hotel. They could fly back out to Australia after a short rest there.

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He was deep into a dream about Ballarat when he was awoken by someone shaking his shoulder. He blinked, surely he wasn't shouting out.

"Dr Blake," the official whispered, "we have a problem."

Lucien sat up, "what?"

It would seem our secretary has a brother who works at that factory. Word is out, and they are after you."

"Bloody hell, that was quick," he ran his hand through his untidy curls, that needed cutting, "Jean, do they know about Jean?"

"And Li and Jiang," he hissed. "We need to get you out of China and your wife out of Australia, for a while."

"Jean mustn't know why, if she's found ..." the torture to his wife was be unimaginable. "I assume they have agent in Australia."

"Not sure, but, we have to take it as so."

"Right, here's what we do ..." and Lucien outlined the first part of the plan to get Jean and Amelia out of Australia. "I'll take over from there."

"Right, well, you need funds," the official noted, "so we'll pay her fares directly to get her out of the country, and wire the rest to you, in England."

"I didn't do it for the money."

"I know, but you need to be rewarded, the information is priceless," he stood up, "I'll leave you to get dressed. These clothes should fit you, we have given your daughter and the little girl more western outfits. My wife ..."

"Thank you, for everything."

"Where will you go, in England?"

"Best you don't know," Lucien grinned, conspiratorially.

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Amelia loved Venice. Jean took her to some of the places she had seen in the photographs of the honeymoon, bought her ice cream to eat and took her on a gondola. It certainly lightened Jean's mood, she felt he had organised this stop to give her hope and, remembering how he had gone to Sunday mass with her, she took Amelia and they sat in exactly the same place. The music filled her heart with joy and comforted her.

Their next part of the journey took them to Paris. The scenery was stunning, even the little girl was entranced, and she still had her little friend to keep her company. Jean relaxed, but was still on her guard.

Paris was another reminder of her honeymoon. It would be two days before the night ferry would take them to London Victoria. They had been booked into a small hotel and Jean took Amelia round some places she thought she might like. She decided that perhaps some Paris fashion was in order. She had enough money, each envelope contained cash for her to buy whatever they needed in the way of food or clothes. She bought Amelia a new coat and some pretty dresses, herself a nightdress and negligee, that would not stay on long, of that she was sure. She hoped he had Li with him and her daughter so she bought a dress and coat for Jiang, judging her to be about Amelia's size, she was just a little older but had not been growing as much, according to Lucien, and Li, she was unsure of her size, hell, she had no idea, so she settled for a silk scarf and some gloves. She bought Lucien a new fedora, cufflinks and tie pin. Gifts for one's husband, or any man, were difficult, she thought, on the spur of the moment. Then she smirked, perhaps the nightdress and negligee would be more of a gift than the hat.

"Mama," Amelia took another bite of croissant, "will we see papa today?"

Jean read the note passed to her by the concierge. "Night ferry to London," she looked at Amelia and smiled, "not today, perhaps tomorrow, but, Amelia, you know we don't know where the adventure will end."

"Tomorrow, mama," she nodded, definitely, "we'll see papa tomorrow."

Jean smiled at the child's faith. "We have the day to do whatever you want, then the ferry tonight, after dinner."

Whatever Amelia wanted was to go to Notre Dame, the windows looked so lovely , then Jean took her to Montmatre to see the artists at work. Paris was really a city for lovers, not for mothers and children but the little girl was happy to be with her mama wherever she went.

"Did papa take you here?" she asked at every corner of a street.

"He did," Jean smiled, "now, how about lunch?"

"Ok."

That evening, after dinner, Jean took Amelia to the station and they boarded the night ferry. She settled her, changed into her pyjamas, in the bunk.

"We'll be in England when you wake," she kissed her goodnight.

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London Victoria was bustling and noisy. Jean looked around, she had had no further instructions and was beginning to wonder if Lucien wanted her to work out the next step by herself when she noticed a sign, "MRS JEAN BLAKE," held by a taxi driver.

"Instruction to take you to Waterloo, ma'am," he tipped his cap, "further instructions are held there, at the station."

"Thank you," Jean helped Amelia into the taxi as he stowed the, now slightly heavier, suitcases in the boot.

She tipped the driver as he helped her find a trolley for the luggage, no fare was necessary, he had been generously rewarded.

She opened the envelope and prayed this was the last instruction, she was beginning to feel tired. Even Amelia was beginning to lose heart, she noticed.

"Alight the train at Ashford, taxi will pick you up."

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The train was crowded, bustling with people going home after work. Jean found a seat and pulled Amelia onto her knee.

"Not long now, darling," she nuzzled into her curls. Ashford, she knew, was where Mattie lived, at least she was certain he was sending her there, to someone who she knew.

"Where're we going, mama, this time?" Amelia snuggled into Jean.

"To a friend."

Amelia dozed, papa was not being fair, she thought, and she missed him so.

Jean heard her sniffles and kissed her,

"It'll be alright, sweetheart, honestly," she held her tight, holding her own tears and trying the think of what she would say to him, when she saw him.

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It was dusk when they left the station and stood looking for a taxi. The luggage lay at their feet and Amelia leant into her, tired and hungry.

"Sorry, ma'am," a voice behind her muttered, "accident on the main road, you Jean Blake?"

"Yes," she answered warily.

"Right, let's get going then, my missus will give me hell if I'm late for supper," he winked, which gave Jean renewed hope.

He pulled up outside a large house. The lights were on over the front door, and shone through the downstairs windows, it was most inviting. The driver got out and opened the doors. Amelia yawned and almost fell out.

"Mama?" she blinked.

Jean held her hand and squeezed it reassuringly, she felt ... comforted at the sight. It was almost like a Christmas card, without the snow, fanciful and romantic.

She tipped the driver as he deposited the cases at the front door, then left her standing there.

She knocked on the door and waited. A voice from deep inside called,

"I'll get it!" vaguely familiar, she shook her head and sighed. Everyone who answered the door at home did so with the same call, even Alice.

The door opened, she gasped and fell, weeping, into the woman's arms, into Mattie's arms.

"It's ok, Jean, come on, inside," she looked down at the confused face of the small child next to her, "and you, Amelia."

She felt herself step inside as Mattie called for the luggage to be brought in.

"Everything's alright, Jean," she soothed, "this is the end of the journey."

"Papa!" Amelia let go of her hand and ran into the house, to be swept up into Lucien's arms, "papa! oh papa!"

He stroked her curls and kissed her head many times, "hello darling child, I've missed you."

He settled her on his hip and held his arm out to take Jean and kissed her, the way she had been dreaming of all this time he had been away. All thoughts of what she would say to him disappeared in that kiss.

"I'm sorry, love," he murmured, into her hair, "it had to be this way, but it's all over now."

"What is?"

"I'll explain ..."

"Not now you won't," Mattie ushered them into the sitting room, "now, tea and a light snack then sleep." She sounded so assured, so like Jean when she was being firm and in charge.

"I need to let Matthew know we're safe," she sniffed into his chest.

"I'll do that," Mattie stroked her back, "from here, now, Lucien?"

"Yes," he nodded, "no need to use phone boxes now."

"You've been in contact with him?" Jean sipped the tea and looked up at him.

"Ever since you left Ballarat," he settled Amelia into the crook of his arm, "he had to be warned, but now, they are safe. When I spoke to him yesterday it was all over, but the journey, your journey, was underway and you were on the last leg, you couldn't have got to me any quicker."

"But the secrecy?"

"Tomorrow I'll explain everything," he kissed her, "tonight you need to sleep as does this little one." He looked down at Amelia, sleeping where he had set her on his knee.

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She woke and blinked in the early sunlight. Something warm and breathing was holding her, something that had not been there for over eighteen months. She sighed and snuggled closer, feeling his arm hold her tighter. She heard a little cry, from the room next door, she thought.

"Amelia," she wriggled free and went to find her daughter.

She was sitting up in bed, crying.

"It's alright, darling," Jean was with her in an instant, "we're with papa now," she lifted her up, "come on, come and see him."

Amelia snuffled into her shoulder, she thought it was all a dream, that she had been held and kissed by papa last night.

"See," Jean pushed the door open, "here he is." She carried her over to the bed where Lucien lay smiling and opened his arms to receive both mother and child.

Amelia settled down between them and drifted off to sleep again.

"Lucien," Jean looked at him over the child's head, "did you find Li?"

"Yes, it wasn't easy," he reached over and stroked her cheek, "but she and Jiang are here, slowly getting used to western ways. Li is trying to recall her English and Jiang is trying to learn, from Mattie's two. I'll introduce you later, when we're all up. It's a bit of a noisy household, but when the British embassy said they could get us here rather than home I knew this was the best place to wait for you."

"Was it bad?"

"Dreadful."

They both dozed a little longer until Mattie knocked and entered with a tray of tea and a glass of milk for Amelia.

"Mattie," Jean shifted and sat up, "I'm sorry, I never said hello, properly."

"No worries, Jean, you are safe, as is Amelia, that's the only hello I needed."

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Over the next few days Lucien told Jean all about his travels, how he had discovered the germ factory and how his information had put paid to a small group of extremists who wanted to set the world alight, literally. Word had gone out that it was an Australian and he needed to pay for what he had done. So, the secretary had passed the information on, from the interview with the embassy official and when the leak was discovered, they had put in place the plan to get Jean and Amelia to safety and put Matthew and the Ballarat force on alert.

"They were clumsy," Lucien stared out at the children playing in the garden, "too slow and too late. When the factory was raided it was found the brucella was defective and wouldn't have survived distribution. They sent someone to get to you, as punishment, I put your life in danger and I will never forgive myself."

"Lucien," she reached over and held his hand, "you did what you had to. If the brucella?" he nodded, "brucella had been viable then it would have been more than my life at stake. It would have been Amelia's, Mattie's ... those children playing there ... you are reckless, you always have been and probably always will be, but only in Ballarat, from now on, where I can keep an eye on you." She smiled.

"As you wish," he squeezed her hand. "We do have to make arrangements to get back there, by sea."

"Why by sea?"

"Jiang," he nodded to the little Chinese girl trying to keep up with Amelia and Mattie's two boisterous boys, "she had the most awful airsickness and the pressure hurt her ears."

"Poor thing," Jean pursed her lips, "still a three week sea voyage will give us time to get to know each other and for Li and Jiang to improve their English."

He laughed, "always looking on the bright side."

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They bade Mattie and her family good bye and told her they were all welcome whenever they were able to visit.

"We will, one day," she hugged each one in turn.

"Thank you, Mattie," Li murmured in her hesitant English, "I will not forget you."

"Nor I you, Li," Mattie smiled, "I am so glad to have met you, and Jiang."

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Ballarat station was busy, as usual. Jean felt the warmth of her town wrap around her like a blanket. They stood, the five of them, holding hands, Jean felt as if she were waiting for someone to whisper in her ear and hand her an envelope.

"Jean!" a familiar voice hailed her and a woman she had missed so much waved wildly across the platform, "Jean!"

Alice had come to meet them, and by her side was Matthew, grinning from ear to ear.

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The smell of a roast chicken greeted them as the door opened, the familiar sight of the polished wood and rug in the hall, and the sound of the radio playing in the kitchen, they were home.

There were fresh flowers on the hall table, the fire was lit in the living room, a tray was set ready for tea on the table in the kitchen, everything was just right.

"Oh, Alice," Jean hugged her and hiccupped, "it's so good to be home."

"We are so glad you are back, you have been sorely missed," Alice hugged her back, all shyness and reticence gone, "I hope I've done right, I made the beds up in the guest room, for Li and Jiang, until she settles ..."

"Perfect," Jean sighed, "absolutely perfect."

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I know the part set in China is playing fast and loose with history but I needed a reason for Lucien to end up in England from China.


End file.
